TODAY'S MUNDY: Say 'cheese'... or maybe 'noodles'

Human behavior has always had its odd and mystifying aspects. But now we have technology that allows humans to commit acts that are weirder than ever. I don’t mean dangerous perversions. I mean things that are basically harmless but annoying. I can’t figure this out.

Take the compulsion some people have to send endless strange and totally unnecessary photos via their electronic devices. From the moment someone like Bill Gates or Steve Jobs inserted a camera into a mobile phone, seems about half the population instantly went nutzo. The younger half, mostly. But not always.

For example, I have a friend, call her Samuela, who is obsessed with her grandchildren. This could be considered normal, I guess, but her obsession is north by northeast of Normal. I have never seen or met these kiddos and I’m pretty sure I never will. They live in a galaxy far, far away. At least a day’s drive.

From their photos, the children appear to be traditionally formed young humans, with the requisite number of body parts arranged in the usual way. But Sam’s flood of continuous proof is unstoppable. Maybe she has a deep-seated fear that she‘ll wake up one morning and they will have changed in some peculiar way, like suddenly grown hair all over their faces or their skin, will have developed scales or something, and she wants to get as much evidence to as many people as possible of what they looked like before this happened.

The photos come with captions. Alexa ready for her first school play. (She was a carrot). Joey at the Science Museum. (His hair is standing straight up.) Binky, Lee Lee and Tad at the dog park. Wait, oops. Those are her dogs. Wasn’t wearing my glasses. Sorry.

Sam feels compelled to chronicle every outing. Whenever they hit a beach or lake she gets an uncontrollable urge to prop the gang up against the nearest rock and click away. I don’t know how I’m supposed to reply. “My word, that certainly is a kid in a bathing suit. You definitely captured that. “

I would love to see pictures of my friend, because I actually know her. I even urged her to send selfies. But she insists she hates photos of herself and has to be the photographer. To which I say, Why?

I cannot fathom how otherwise perfectly sane people assume you are as fascinated with their progeny as they are. Maybe they think if only they send enough photos of the kids you will start loving them too. Maybe someday Samuela will join a 12-step group. “Hi, my name is Samuela and I’m a recovering grandkid photo junkie.” Probably not.

There should be rules. No shots of grandkids to casual friends unless you are in them too, unless the kid does something exceptional, like win a medal or be born. You get to send those first hospital shots of the World’s Only Baby, always with the eyes glued shut. They can be excused in view of the precarious mental state of brand new parents, including grandparents. And Christmas cards with family photos are always a fun treat.

Edible Images

But here’s another thing I don’t understand. Pictures of food. I have a young relative who texts photos of her dinner every time she eats a meal in a restaurant. I want to reply. “Are you playing a guessing game as to what this is? I figured it out!! It’s a steak! Very good likeness. But why are you treating it like a new pair of pants and showing it off? It will fit your mouth very nicely.” I don’t do that, of course. I just text back “Looks yummy.”

Why do people do this? Unless it’s something wonderful you cooked up yourself, or something like a fabulous birthday cake, both of which people would definitely want to see, or it’s something really unusual like a whole octopus, I say hide the cellphone under a napkin.

I think the answer to this food clickiness must be that today’s young adults grew up in busy families where the parents rarely cooked a whole hot dinner, so that having a big plate of food set before them is so unusual it drives them to record it. But then, how do we explain my same young relative’s fondness for Thai food to the point where she has to send me a shot of a pile of spicy noodles?

I am tempted to reply with a photo of a bottle of Tums.

I finally figured out how to cope with the emailed products of my friend who seems to suffer from grandkidosis and photo-rrhea. I don’t open them. Whenever I see an email from her titled “Trip to the State Park,” I lie a little bit.

I dip into my bag of stock phrases and type, “Wow, sure looks like fun! Those guys are really getting big. I hardly recognized them.” At least that last sentence is true.

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